SelfDestruction
by lypiphera
Summary: I've only read 2 of the books, so I'm not that big with technical details...but that's kinda the point, I guess. Hermione's dating Draco but it's 1 of those love/hate deals and 1 night someone tall dark and handsome complicates things. R/R pretty please!
1. Snape

Self- Destruction  
  
~^*^~DISCLAIMER~^*^~ i do not own any of the characters in this story!!! J.K. Rowling created them and i didn't, dammit.  
  
  
  
Chapter 1: Snape  
  
The door slammed behind him and the last sounds she heard were his angry footsteps carrying him away from her. She threw herself down on her bed, sobbing.  
She had regained control of herself enough to wash her face and turn down the bedcovers. But she was not in bed. She sat in the window, shivering in her pajamas, but not noticing.  
The knock on the door startled her, and for a moment she considered not answering it-- she had no desire to confront those mind-numbing blue eyes of Draco's again tonight. Only slightly less distasteful at the moment was Ron, whose way of sympathizing with her was to berate her for bothering with Malfoy in the first place.   
Much to her surprise, her august visitor was none of the three.   
"I'm sorry to bother you, Miss Granger," he said in his deep voice. "I know it's very late, but may I come in? I only want a quick word."  
Hermione spared a moment for an embarrassed glance at the tight, tiny tank top she wore braless to bed before conceding to herself grudgingly that she didn't at all mind his dark eyes seeing her this way. "It's all right, Professor Snape," she said quietly. "I wasn't sleeping."  
*How many times had she secretly dreamed of this very thing, of him knocking on her door in the dead of night...*  
Snape crossed the room and folded his long legs into a chair. Hermione sat cross-legged on the bed and waited for him to speak.   
"Hermione, I'm here because it has come to my attention that, ah, you've had a, shall we say, altercation with young Mr. Malfoy. As Head of Slytherin House, I came to offer my sincerest apologies for the behavior of one of its members-" and here his voice took on a less formal tone-- "and, as your friend and counselor, to ask if there's anything I can do. Perhaps you'd like to talk about it?"  
Hermione shook with rage, at Draco, at Snape, at everyone. Herself most of all, for the desire that rose up within her for this dark man, here in her room so late at night. "H-How dare he say anything about what we--oh!" she sputtered. "I'll kill him!"  
"He only told me because I asked him," Snape said hastily, adjusting the ever-present black cloak to hide his reaction at the sight of her youthful curves barely restrained in that tank top. He'd always made it a point never to get involved with a student, but there was something about Hermione Granger that he found impossible to resist. And after seeing Malfoy's emotion-wracked face and hearing the reason for it, Snape had decided that tonight was his chance.   
As for Hermione, ever since she'd been old enough to notice such things she'd been aware of the dark-and-mysterious allure of the Potions professor. Something about his aloof, deep-voiced handsomeness had captured her attention and, more importantly at the moment, her hormones. He'd retained that aura of forbidden mystery to her until recently, he'd gotten more friendly. Hermione was not stupid, and this only added to her interest.  
He said, "Believe me, Hermione, he'd get much more satisfaction out of this if he knew how much he's gotten to you." Pausing to gaze at her red-rimmed eyes, he added softly, "And he has, hasn't he."  
"He makes me so ANGRY!" she burst out suddenly. "I love him, but he's the most maddening person I've ever known! Sometimes I wonder what he wants to do more, fuck me or fuck with me!" Breathing hard, she stared at the floor. "I'm sorry, Professor. I don't know why I'm telling you this."  
He rose from the chair and was there beside her in one swift, fluid motion, his arm around her bare shoulders pressing her body to his. "Maybe because you know I care," he said softly into her hair.  
She stared up at him, eyes big and, suddenly, knowing. "Do you make a habit of this, Professor?" she asked in a low voice.  
"Of what, my dear?"  
Her mouth curved in a thin smile. "Seducing your students."  
He was startled into the truth. "Hermione, I swear, this is the first--"  
"Good," she said, pulling his face to hers in a hard kiss.   
He pushed her down on the bed, and as he slid the straps of her shirt off her shoulders he said, "Hermione, if you're doing this to get back at Draco--"  
"Not doing it for--Draco," she said breathlessly. "Doing it-- for me."  
**************************************************************************************  
Some minutes later, Snape rose from the bed and began pulling on his pants. Hermione watched him from where she lay, the dim lamplight making shadowy play of her soft curves. He loked at her.   
"Why didn't you tell me?" he said. She met his eyes unflinchingly.   
"Would it have mattered? You came here tonight to seduce me, Professor. Would knowing I was a virgin have stopped you?"  
"It might've."  
She smiled wryly. "That's why I didn't tell you."  
He buttoned his shirt. "It's just a little unbelievable. I mean, Draco Malfoy's girlfriend, a virgin? No one would have thought it possible." She stopped smiling, and he said quietly, "That's what you and he fought about tonight, isn't it. He wants to sleep with you."  
She nodded.  
After a time, when he was fully dressed except for the cloak, he said, "Why me, then? If you won't do Malfoy, why a sullen old Professor twice your age?"  
She did not reply for a long time. Then she said, slowly, "Because ever since I was old enough to know what it meant, I wanted you, Professor."  
He watched her for a long moment. She stared back without a blink. She was good at that. And at a lot of other things. He said, "I mustn't be found here. But I will return, if you so desire."  
She smiled enigmatically. "And if I do not desire?"  
He looked at her, all full curves and honey-blonde hair glowing in the lamplight. "I will return."  
She laughed. He turned to leave, and she said, "You're going to make sure Draco knows you've been here, aren't you."  
He gazed at her. "Aren't you?" he countered. She only laughed again.  
  
This is Chapter One. If feedback is good, Chapter 2 will be up soon. Please R&R, and be gentle, I'm still new at this. 


	2. Draco

Self- Destruction  
  
Chapter 2: Draco  
  
He sat on his bed, staring stonily out the window. He could see Hermione's room from here, and he would watch till the lamp went out. The curtains were drawn, so he couldn't see her, but he stared anyway.  
He forgot what time it was until it was so late he didn't want to know what time it was. The lamp went out and he sighed. He knew she would be a long time forgiving him for this one.   
He loved her, dammit...   
He wanted to go to her, tell her that he didn't care whether she slept with him right now or never, that it wasn't about that for him and never would be, if only she'd forgive him. He knew he was stupid to press her like that. But she was so damned beautiful...  
Damn his hormones. Damn his conceit. Damn his stupidity for getting her so furious at him that she'd probably never speak to him again. Damn her mouth that tasted so good and damn her body that made his body want to get her alone and horizontal and never, ever let go. And thrice damn his own big mouth that didn't know when to shut up.  
He decided to go find his Head of House. Professor Snape was a handsome man. Surely he'd had lots of problems with women in his day. And he'd already blurted out most of the problem to him anyway.  
Draco opened the door, smiling when it didn't squeak, and set off down the hall. He wasn't more than ten paces from Snape's door when he heard footsteps not his own coming from the opposite end of the hall.  
He rcognized the tall, lionine form of the Potions professor by the light of the small lamp he carried. "Professor?" he said.  
"Draco Malfoy. Well, well, well. What are you doing up so late?" Snape's features, eerily lit by the small light, suddenly looked ominous to Draco. There was something in the professor's voice he didn't quite like.   
"I-- I wanted to ask your advice..." Curiosity emboldened him. "Where've you been, Professor?"  
Snape laughed low in his throat. "Go to bed, Malfoy." The tall man shouldered past him to unlock the door of his chamber, and that was when Draco recognized it-- the smell. Her smell. No one else at Hogwarts used that perfume.   
"You've been with Hermione!" He gasped before he thought. Snape looked at him.  
"Come on," he said, seizing Draco roughly by the shoulder and pulling him into the room. He shut the door and reinforced the thick walls with a spell for secrecy. "Yes, I've been with your precious Hermione," he smirked at Draco. "What do you propose to do about it, boy?"  
"What did you do to her?" Draco cried.   
Snape laughed. "Nothing she wasn't willing and eager to have done to her, boy, don't worry about that."  
"You bastard." He said it the way he would have said, It's raining. "You spelled her, didn't you? You must've, she wouldn't--"  
"Oh, wouldn't she?" Snape said, as if greatly amused. "Maybe you don't know your beloved Hermione quite as well as you'd like, Malfoy. Maybe the only reason she wouldn't with you is that she was waiting for someone better to come along."  
Draco was finding it harder and harder to breathe. "I'll tell Dumbledore-- you'll lose your job--"  
"No, I don't think you will," the professor said. "Think what that would do to her, Malfoy-- she'd be known all over Hogwarts as the slut who got the Potions professor fired. You wouldn't want that, would you?"  
Draco fumed. "They'd hush it up-- it's your fault, you seduced her-- Hermione's a good girl! They'd know who was really to blame--"  
"Would they? Dumbledore's a sentimental old fool, I'll grant you, but these things have a way of getting out--you know that as well as I." Snape paused, a feral look in his eyes.  
"You wouldn't--"  
"Can you be sure of that?" The dark man smiled. "Go to Dumbledore if you wish, boy-- I can't stop you. But do it knowing that you screwed your girlfriend's reputation in the process." His face never lost that amused expression. "I'd say that's about the only way you're likely to be screwing her anytime soon."  
Draco's hand struck the professor's face with such force that the crack resounded in the night. Snape cursed and, snarling, pushed the boy hard away from him. Draco stumbled and fell back onto the floor. "Don't try that again, boy," Snape hissed.   
Draco scrambled to his feet. "I will find out the truth of this," he said, brushing himself off. "And if you hurt her, Snape, I swear to you I'll kill you with my own hands."  
"Which are you more afraid of, boy?" Snape's voice called after him as he opened the door. "That I raped her...or that I didn't have to?"  
**************************************************************************************  
  
Draco arrived in front of Hermione's room panting and out of breath from running around on those damned moving staircases. "Hermione!" he called, pounding on the door with his fists. "Hermione! Let me in!"  
The door opened slowly. She stood there in the dim light of a newly-lit lamp, eyes blinking and sleepy. "Draco, my God, you'll wake the dead. Stop shouting." Her hair was rumpled, her eyes squinted in the light, and yet as always when he saw her his heart leapt with her beauty.   
"I'm sorry, but I--it's very important. I've got to come in."  
She held the door open for him and he shut it carefully as he entered. Quickly spelling secrecy around them, he said, "Hermione...oh, God, Hermione, I'm sorry about before. I'm an idiot, really I am, and I should know by now to let you alone about that. I don't care if you never sleep with me, only please don't be angry anymore."  
She looked at him carefully, as if she were trying to judge what he meant--or what he knew. "Draco, I know you think you're sorry. I do, truly. But you always are. And it never keeps you from doing it again."  
Draco's heart beat faster and he felt the beginnings of panic set in on him. If she didn't forgive him..."Hermione, please. Believe that I mean what I say. I'd do anything to take back what I've done. I love you, Hermione, do you understand? I love you." The last few words had come out almost without him knowing he was going to say them-- but as they hung in the air between them he realized how true they were. He stared at his hands. "I've--I've never said that to anyone before," he breathed wonderingly.  
Hermione stood away from him. "Don't say it unless you mean it, Malfoy," she warned, her eyes wide. "And don't you dare try to pull some garbage about me being the first person you've ever loved--don't you dare try to guilt me into forgiving you."  
He jumped up. "I do mean it, Hermione, I would never-- I love you!" he exclaimed. "I love you...don't you know that?"  
She looked into his face and saw that he was telling her the truth. But he wasn't getting off that easy...and she wasn't yet certain he was getting off at all. "Tell me something, Draco," she said in a quiet, deadly tone. "Are you here because you're sorry, or because you're jealous?"  
"Jealous? Sweet Saints, Hermione, I'm not jealous, I'm worried. Whatever Snape did..." He trailed off as he realized what she'd said. "So it's true," he breathed.   
`"Yes, it's true. You can wipe that shocked look off your face."  
Draco felt as though someone had dealt him a sizeable blow to the chest with something resembling a sledgehammer. "Then he didn't..."  
"He's not that stupid, Malfoy. He wouldn't."  
He couldn't breathe. He couldn't...breathe. "Then you...you did it on purpose," he managed.  
"Yes."  
"Why?" The word came out strangled through his constricted throat.  
Why, indeed. Hermione had spent the last half hour asking herself that very same question. Pure lust? No, she would have been able to talk herself out of that. A simple desire to get back at Draco? Perhaps a combination of the two. Truly told, she simply didn't know.  
She stood up. "I think, Malfoy, that you had better leave."  
"But..but..." he struggled to talk around the tears that were fast welling up in his eyes. "What does this mean, Hermione?"  
"Mean?"  
"For us. Are you...I mean, is he...will you..." Draco couldn't put it into words. It was too horrible to think about.  
"I don't know. Suffice it to say I'm considering a few things."  
Considering...Oh, God. "Hermione...he's not...he doesn't...I love you."  
She smiled kindly at him, and the combination of pity and condescension in her face was almost too much for him to bear. "I know, Draco. I know."  
He turned away, so she would not see his tears. 


	3. Hermione

Self- Destruction  
  
Chapter 3: Hermione  
  
"If there's any possible way that my life could get any more screwed up, please God, I don't want to know about it."   
Journals are interesting things, Hermione reflected as she penned the sentence. She shut the red leather-bound book and watched it vanish into thin air. Especially magic ones.   
It was now officially too late for her to get any real sleep, so she resumed sitting in her window, with a blanket around her shoulders this time, and the snow-white kitten on her lap for company. "What do you think, Lily?" she asked it, scratching behind the soft furry ears. The animal had been a Christmas present from Harry, whom she'd delighted by naming it after his mother. The only response she got was a soft purr. More or less what she'd expected.  
Staring out the window, she could see the light that still burned in Draco's window. Potions class was going to be hell tomorrow.   
A soft rain had begun to fall. Hermione idly counted the drops as they slid down the windowpane and fought the urge to go out and get blind drunk. At the moment, it was the only way she could think of to deal with her mess...forgetfulness.  
But she stayed where she was, and one by one she began to tackle the questions that flowed theough her mind, as numerous and entangled as the raindrops on her windowpane.  
Is Draco telling the truth? Am I in love with Snape? Is he in love with me? Am I in love with Draco? If I had to choose between them, who would I choose? And the most insistent question of all: How did I let myself get into this mess?  
She needed someone to talk to. Someone who could tell her what was right, because he always knew. But Harry was in London till April, conferring with the Ministry of Magic. She could send him an owl, but decided against it-- if he knew of her predicament, he would surely come to her right away, and she didn't want to take him away from his business. What a good friend Harry was. She was lucky there was at least one person in the world who didn't want to jump into bed with her. Besides Ron, of course--- Ron being undeniably and irrevocably gay--- but Ron would never understand. If anything, he'd be jealous---he'd always thought Snape was attractive.  
So. She couldn't go to Ron, and she couldn't go to Harry. It went without saying that she couldn't go to Draco. That left...no one. Bed was looking more and more attractive to her, but the sky was already beginning to lighten, and besides...she didn't want to lay there again without first washing the sheets. Snape's smell lingered there even from the window where she sat.   
That thought reminded her to cast an emergency contraceptive spell over her womb and this she did, quickly. Then, with a sigh, she got up and began to gather the dirty sheets, trying to ignore the scent that pervaded them-and herself. Next item on her agenda: a shower. 


End file.
